Chapter Twenty-three:
The Severed Core

It was some time later that I came across an object about which I had entirely forgotten. Tom had not sought to find me, as I had hoped he would not, and in his absence I was able to consider in full all that had he had told me. Time had also, it seemed, granted me the opportunity to search the cave for anything further, as I believed there was yet much more to find. Ordinarily, I would not have cared to do so, for I did not enjoy meddling or exploring, and rarely partook in such things. Yet, for once, it seemed urgent that I go against my own code of being. At the same time, I feared Tom would not permit me to leave ever again, as I then knew many of his secrets; poking about would put my mind at ease until we were to confront it once more.

My efforts, at first, were fruitless; it had truly seemed as though the cavern held nothing more than the vast expanse of water within it. Many a time, I paused to question my actions. There seemed no purpose to them; nothing would return Tom and I to the way we had been, and there was nothing I longed for more. This fact was really what I was to distract myself from. And it was infuriating that I could not be rid of such selfish thoughts.

Distantly, I gazed at the glossy black surface of the lake; from my position upon a boulder at its head, I could see further than I had before, and the opposite wall became clear to me. So clear I discerned a small fissure upon its face. Even from where I was, I could see that it was cleanly–and unnaturally–cut. And so curious was I that I could not help but pick my way across the rocks to reach it.

Tom was somewhat of a perfectionist. No matter how natural or unnatural the crack was at first glance, it would have been sealed and erased if it held no importance. That I knew well, so was sure of.

I touched my fingers to its smoothed edges. Up close, it seemed to be more of an indentation than what I had originally thought it to be. And though it seemed strange, it told me one thing: it had been hastily sealed with magic, and thus, the seal could be broken.

My hand dove into the folds of my robe and I withdrew my wand quickly from it. Its tip seemed to quiver as though in excitement from something invisible to me; ere I had even begun to move it toward the stone, it did so on its own. Tentatively, I let loose my grip, yet the wand was held erect to the crack.

I buffeted the opening with a multitude of spell, jinxes, and curses; all for naught, as everything remained the same. At first, I began to doubt my abilities and perceptiveness as a witch. Then, the thought that perhaps Tom had invented something crept slowly into my mind. As we had grown close, I had discovered his brilliance; brilliance that could be countered by none but Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts. My own wit fell short, for it could only go so long ere it failed.

And yet he had said nothing of what he did when he was alone. I still knew not all that he had done in the Chamber of Secrets, so how was I to know truly what he had formulated?

Then I was struck by another thought. The most intelligent of wizards would be, if desiring to open it, absorbed in the complexities. They would pay no mind to the most simple of things. What if all that was required was a simple password? Simple as an offering of blood had been. But what word? It was perhaps more puzzling to have a choice of words as opposed to a choice of spells. It perplexed me, though at that point, I began to enjoy the guessing game–for that was precisely what it was. What word would the great Lord Voldemort use, I mused, Surely something as great as himself.

Or perhaps not.

On and on the riddle went, and as it progressed, the more complicated it became. It occurred to me that I did not know whether or not he spoke another language fluently–save for Parseltongue. The language of the snakes posed little problem; I still wore the locket Tom had given me in our fourth year around my neck, though I doubted that he knew. I hid it beneath my robes as a promise of our engagement–or perhaps as a reminder of what good there was to come once we graduated from Hogwarts.

So absorbed was I that I did not notice the footfalls approaching me, quickly and silently. "Danielle," Tom commanded from over my shoulder. The crack widened; the seal had been broken.

"Wonderful, is it not?" he murmured, "How simple things can come to be. But I am surprised at you, Danielle."

"And why is that?" I inquired coldly, and he smirked. "No one would expect their own name."

"Precisely so. Yet you said yourself that the great Lord Voldemort would use a thing only as great as himself. There is truth in your sarcasm."

The color drained from my face and I stared at him numbly. "What?"

"No, you did not hear wrongly. This cavern holds many secrets, perhaps more than the Chamber left to me by Salazar Slytherin. Though," he added with a crooked smile, "It is he, in part, who aided me in its creation. You, as well. Without you, it would have taken far longer to find this."

Tom, with a slight twitch of his wand, summoned an object from the crack which he had just unsealed. He presented it to me, and I gasped.

"Slytherin's wand," I murmured in disbelief. "Of course..." I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze, and as I did, he would not look away.

"Indeed. My gratitude to you is great, Danielle."

"But," I began, glancing at the wand once more. "The core has been removed. Or, at least... a part of it has."

"Also useful, and a sacrifice that had to be made. You must know that this is just the beginning, for my work is far from complete."

Unspoken phrases seemed to pass between us then, as we gazed at each other in silence. I knew not what to say aloud, and he seemed to be waiting for me to produce another question. Yet I had nothing more to add, and soon he seemed to realize this.

"If you are finished, I should like you to return the wand to its proper place." Tom muttered. Ere I had the chance to refuse or comply, he whisked it from my hands as he had put it into them, and the fissure closed upon it, sealing the treasure inside once more.

"Suppose I was not finished," I retorted under my breath. If he had heard me, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he turned to me expressionlessly.

"When we return, Danielle, you must speak of this to no one. Perhaps there is no one at the moment you would divulge this to, yet there will be. From your eyes I can tell that this visit was not entirely too rash on my part."

My heart leapt. He was to let me free after all! I exhaled a sigh.

Suddenly, without thought, I buried my head in his chest and cried softly. I could only imagine the taken-aback expression upon his face. "Danielle?"

"What has happened to the Tom I met in my fourth year?" I sniffed. "Where is the boy who helped me with my books and who stood beside me after Transfiguration one day?"

"That boy is gone." His arm around my waist, we Apparated away.